


i know the man i am is not who i should be

by sarahcakes613



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Anal Sex, Edgeplay, Leather Jackets, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Porn with Feelings, Rimming, Uncle/Nephew Incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-24
Updated: 2019-07-24
Packaged: 2020-07-12 09:08:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,207
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19943656
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sarahcakes613/pseuds/sarahcakes613
Summary: Derek's method of disciplining his uncle is not exactly the sort of punishment Peter was expecting.





	i know the man i am is not who i should be

**Author's Note:**

> I had a lovely comment on my previous Deter story that sparked this idea. It's not even remotely what they were asking for, but it's what my brain came up with!
> 
> Title is from the song Dance on Our Graves by Paper Route, which is 150% a Peter Hale song.
> 
> **For a bit of explanation regarding the mildly dub-con tag, see end notes.**

Peter hasn’t slept much since he came back. His dreams, when he does sleep, are dark, both in colour and tone. Voices from shadows, hissing his name. Lydia Martin, Melissa and Scott McCall, his own nephew, each in turn asking him why he used them.

His sister looks at him with cold eyes, asks him why he thinks he of all people is entitled to a second chance.

He doesn’t know. He’s not even sure he really expected it to work, but it did, and here he is.

He kicks away the sheet, gets out of bed. Well, gets out of the pile of blankets he’s arranged on the floor. His bed remains untouched, bare. Why should he deserve to sleep in a comfortable bed while his family rests in the dirt six feet under?

His skin is itching, he wants to run, but he’s wary of leaving the apartment. Not afraid, Peter Hale refuses to associate himself with the feeling of fear, just…cautious. He doesn’t want to risk being recognized, doesn’t want to risk catching a familiar scent and following it. Doesn’t want to find himself standing in front of the burned out shell he once called home because it’s where his muscle memory has taken him.

He starts doing jumping jacks, push-ups, anything to burn off the excess energy building up right underneath his skin. He lets himself slide into his beta-shift, his apartment now awash in a hazy blue light. Blue? That’s different. He goes into the bathroom, stares at himself in the mirror. His beta-eyes weren’t blue before the fire. He thinks about Laura, about teaching her to drive, about sharing his pizza with her because she was the only other Hale who appreciated his taste in toppings. He wants to howl his sorrow, but it’s a whimper that sticks in his throat.

Peter blames the lack of sleep for why he doesn’t hear the heartbeat outside his apartment until there is a knock on the door. It’s firm, a one-two rap. He hears a cough, then a low voice comes through, muffled slightly by the wall.

“It’s me, Peter. Let me in, we need to talk.”

It’s Derek.

Peter tends to run hot, so he never bothers with wearing clothes to bed. He pauses, unsure if he should at least throw a robe on before opening the door. He decides against it; he’s used to wearing his skin like armour and he feels like he might need that shield before the night is through.

He throws open the door, standing to one side to allow his nephew to enter his den. Derek saunters in, looking around. He’s wearing a black leather jacket and Peter’s mouth goes dry as he smells that distinctive strong, bitter aroma that he still associates with the alleyways of San Francisco’s Castro district.

It’s cool in the apartment, not cold, but enough that Peter lets himself believe it’s the air that makes his nipples tighten up, not the sight of his nephew, tall and broad and wearing that leather jacket.

Derek is looking at him, probably expecting some smart-aleck remark, but Peter is too damn tired to perform.

“To what do I owe the pleasure, _alpha_?” He asks his nephew, sarcasm dripping on the last word.

Derek’s jaw tightens, his fists clench and release. The shift in his shoulders causes the leather to creak a bit, and the sound must be tied directly into Peter’s sense-memory because his mouth goes from dry to watering.

“You killed your direct alpha and kin. As current Hale Alpha, I’m here to collect on your punishment.”

“You’re invoking beta discipline rights, really? Killing me wasn’t enough?”

“Apparently not, seeing as you didn’t stay dead.”

“Fair enough,” Peter nods, his shoulders tense. “Can we do this in the bathroom? You’ll be getting the apartment, as my next-of-kin, and I don’t think blood’s going to wash out of this carpet very easily.”

Derek’s eyes narrow, his head tilts.

“I’m…I’m not here to kill you again, Peter.”

Peter’s shoulders relax a fraction of an inch. He doesn’t especially want to go through that again, but there’s a small part of him that whispers it’s all he deserves. He thinks he probably wouldn’t have fought terribly hard if Derek _had_ decided to slash his throat again.

He clears his throat.

“What’s it to be, then? Wergild? 39 lashes?”

Derek crosses over to him, stands right in front of him. This close, the leather smell is overpowering, and it takes all of Peter’s considerable self-will not to drop to his knees immediately. Derek cups Peter’s jaw and leans in. Soft lips press against his firmly for a beat, two, his mouth opening slightly in surprise. His alpha hums into the kiss, then gently slides his tongue along Peter’s bottom lip, not quite sliding it into his mouth.

It takes everything Peter has to step back, to push away from Derek. He licks at his lips, still able to taste the other man.

“I don’t –” he stops, not sure what he’s trying to say.

“Disciplining your beta is about understanding their actions and making them feel like their frustrations are heard. It’s about knowing what they need.” Derek sounds like he’s quoting from a handbook, which he might be for all Peter knows.

“And you think what I need is a kiss from my alpha?” Peter’s laugh is harsh, a dry bark.

“No,” Derek replies calmly. “I think what you need is to remember what it’s like to be loved. Laura never got the chance to apologize for leaving you behind, but she was – we were both sorry.”

His nephew - his alpha, who became that way because he was forced to kill Peter when Peter proved wildly unable to handle the power of alphahood – thinks that a suitable form of discipline is _love?_

“And just how exactly are you planning to _love_ me, nephew?” Peter sneers, but even he can feel it is a shaky attempt at condescension.

Derek reaches out to him again, puts one large hand on his hip, thumb caressing his hipbone.

“I’m going to make you feel so good, uncle Peter.” His eyes are dark, his pupils dilated with only a sliver of green still visible.

Peter’s body and mind respond to that in two very different ways. His mind runs through a dozen possible flippant responses, while his cock thickens, hanging heavy between his legs. And then his mind is blank, all the blood rushing from his head down to his dick, because Derek’s hand is now curving possessively over his ass, squeezing it lightly before gliding a finger lightly down the cleft and back up. He knows he should have reservations, there’s something about this he should be objecting to, but he can’t bring it to mind just now and maybe that’s okay, because Derek’s other hand is cupping his face again which means if he turns just a touch, he can get another deep draw of that heady leather smell.

“Will you let me discipline you, beta? Will you let me make you feel good?” Derek murmurs, and Peter nods.

“Say it.” His alpha demands.

“I accept the discipline, alpha.” He says it quietly, but Derek will be able to hear the truth in it.

Derek leads him over to the bed, and sighs softly when he sees the bare mattress.

“Oh, Peter.” He sounds sad but understanding, and Peter thinks about the railway depot Derek is currently calling home. He thinks Derek probably understands the feeling of not being deserving of comfort.

Derek is efficient as he strips, toeing off his socks and shoes before unbuckling his belt, shucking off his pants and boxers. He tosses his jacket on the bed and peels his shirt off. Peter’s eyes are drawn to his nephew’s torso, a long stretch of tan muscle and a dusting of hair trailing down his stomach. His tongue feels heavy in his mouth, he wants to reach down and lick at the happy trail, wants to follow it down to his alpha’s cock. It’s hard, a bead of pre-cum already pearling up from the tip. Derek wraps a hand around it and even in that large hand, there are inches left untouched. Peter swallows at the thought of taking that in his body, but his own cock jumps in response, so hard now that it’s jutting straight up, flushed red and throbbing with heat.

Derek puts the jacket back on over his naked torso. Peter’s eyes widen, and Derek smiles sharply, all teeth. He taps his nose, of course he’s picked up on Peter’s response to the leather. Peter feels his face heat up, the blush running up his neck and down his chest.

Derek lies down in the middle of the mattress, and gestures for Peter to join him. When Peter climbs up next to him, Derek pulls him over to straddle him backwards, so his back is to his alpha. His neck prickles at giving up this sign of trust. Derek puts a hand between his shoulder blades and pushes gently until his weight is on his elbows, his face next to Derek’s crotch, his ass nearly straddling Derek’s face.

Hands run down his buttocks and gently part his cheeks. Derek kisses one cheek, nips it lightly, repeats on the other side. Peter’s blush deepens as he feels a warm gust of breath followed by a brush of lips directly over his hole. Then there is something else, and he groans as he feels his nephew’s tongue running around the rim of his hole.

He turns his head so his nose is in the crook of Derek’s thigh, inhales deeply, letting the scent of his alpha’s musk overpower everything else, letting it wash away the sensory overload he’s beginning to feel.

Derek is drawing his tongue down Peter’s perineum, long licks with the flat of his tongue, sweeping down to his balls and back up. He focuses his attention on his uncle’s hole, flicking his tongue delicately in little kitten licks until Peter’s muscles relax minutely and Derek is able to slip the pointed tip of his tongue inside. He darts his tongue in and out, savouring the sounds he is drawing from his beta.

Peter is moaning softly, his nose buried in Derek’s crotch. He feels pinned in the most decadent way, and his hips are shaking from the effort of restraint. He feels so overwhelmed right now, the sound of wet slurping licks and the tickling rasp of stubble against the tender skin of his inner thighs invading his senses and he wants to get away but needs to see it through.

He wants to push back against Derek’s tongue, forcing it deeper inside of him. He opens his mouth, sliding his tongue around the base and up Derek’s shaft. He draws the tip into his mouth, suckling at the salty pre-cum, his mouth filling with saliva as he tries to take more of Derek’s cock in. The angle is wrong, he chokes as Derek bucks his hips, and he pulls away, gagging. He turns his attention to the base, mouthing and kissing it, rubbing his face in his alpha’s pubic hair.

Peter’s hole is sloppy with spit, and he shivers when Derek begins to slowly push one finger into his still-tight hole. He barely gives Peter a moment to adjust before he pulls it out and pushes it back in with a second finger, crooking them as he drives his fingers in deeper, widening Peter’s channel. Peter gives in to the feeling now, pushing back against Derek’s hand, his cock dragging along Derek’s chest. He focuses on his cock, on the slightly dry tug of skin against skin, humping his nephew’s chest as he tries to close in on the approaching wave of pleasure.

Derek wraps a hand around the base of Peter’s cock, stopping the wave in its path, and Peter whines, still humping against his nephew.

“Stop it.” Derek murmurs against his skin, and his voice is soft but his tone hard, and Peter freezes, anxious not to displease his alpha.

He is rewarded with another finger pushing into him, and he feels full, so full, like his skin might burst and when he opens his mouth to speak, he has to slur through his fangs.

“Please, alpha, please.” He doesn’t even know what he’s asking for, doesn’t know how far Derek is planning on pushing him, but he’s desperate for something, anything.

The fingers withdraw, leaving him feeling empty. Derek sits up, draws Peter up with him so his back is pressed against his alpha’s chest, his legs splayed out on either side of them. His cock is flushed dark red and he is so hard he can feel the blood in his cock thrumming, a vibration running through his entire body.

“You still have a choice, uncle.” Derek’s voice is husky. “Do you want to work for your pleasure, or can you trust your alpha to do it for you?”

Trust is a slippery thing, and Peter can count on one hand the number of people he’s truly trusted in his life.

He shakes his head.

“Let me work for it, alpha.”

Derek hums, and puts something into one of Peter’s hands. It’s lube, one of those single-use packets from a bathroom vending machine.

“Open yourself up some more.” He instructs Peter, and Peter hastens to comply.

He bites the packet open, squeezing the contents onto his fingers. Leaning forward, he braces himself with one hand on Derek’s leg, the other hand reaching behind to shove the lube into his hole. He can feel that his hole is already somewhat loose, his rim fluttering under his fingers, but inside is still tight, his ass squeezing as he drives the lube further in. His insides are burning hot, and he should be going slow, making this a show, but he feels too needy for that right now.

He twists his fingers, grazing over his prostate and he gasps as there is a flicker of white in his vision when he catches it under the rough pad of his fingertip.

Derek’s hand is on his wrist now, forcing him to remove his fingers, and he clenches, chasing the sensation, suddenly desperate to not feel so empty and open.

“I’ve got you, come on, you’re ready now.”

Derek’s voice is a buzz in his ear, drowned out by the thumping beat of blood and now there is a steady pressure as Derek pulls him back, slowly, inexorably pushing his cock into Peter inch by maddening inch, until he is fully seated, Peter’s ass against Derek’s thighs, sitting on his alpha’s lap.

They’re both still for a moment, Peter barely breathing as he adjusts to the thick intrusion into his body. Derek’s hands are grasping at Peter’s waist and he waits for his uncle to move. Peter starts slow, circling and rolling his hips, gradually building up a rhythm until he is nearly bouncing on his nephew’s dick. He pushes himself up, shoves himself back down, anxiously chasing that wave again. It’s rising fast, he can already feel it cresting, and he cries out when Derek’s hand clamps down around the base of his cock again preventing him from peaking.

Derek shushes him, running one hand down his hip in a soothing manner. The hand on his cock loosens, begins stroking him in time to their rhythm, but just as Peter feels his balls tighten up, the hand tightens again, stopping his orgasm in its tracks a third time.

“Derek, please.” He begs brokenly. “Alpha, I need to come, please.”

Derek flexes his abs, sitting up in a half-crunch and peppering Peter’s shoulders with kisses that burn hot like a brand. The lapel of his jacket brushes against Peter’s skin and he wants to push into it, to feel that soft electric crackle all over his body.

“I love you, Peter.” His nephew whispers against his skin. “Your alpha loves you. Do you accept it?”

There is a lump in Peter’s throat and no amount of swallowing is making it go away. He’s choking on it, choking on the inopportune emotions that are welling up in his chest.

“Say it, Peter.” Derek demands.

Peter opens his mouth, but only a small breathy gasp escapes. Derek’s hand resumes it’s leisurely stroking.

“Say it, and you can come.” His alpha promises.

“I…” he breathes out. “I accept it. I accept it, alpha, yes. Please, fuck, please alpha, let me come!” His thrusts are frantic as he bucks wildly between the cock rubbing firmly against his prostate and the hand now roughly stripping his own cock.

“Tell me you love me.” Derek bites out, his own breath now uneven.

“I – fuck, I love you! Alpha, Derek, I lo-ove you!” It comes out in a wail as his orgasm finally washes over him, shooting hot streaks of cum across his chest and onto Derek’s hand.

It’s no less true for being blurted out in the middle of fucking, but it’s the first time Peter’s been told someone loves him, the first time he’s said it back, in over half a decade, and as the last aftershocks of his climax calm down, he can’t stop shaking. He’s glad he’s turned away from his nephew, doesn’t think he could bear to have those piercing green eyes watching him as tears silently stream down his face.

Derek smells it though, smells the bitter-salt tears and the shift in his emotions. Gently, so very gently, he slides out of his uncle’s ass, ignoring his own still-hard cock. He turns them both onto their sides and curls himself around Peter, his chin on the beta’s shoulder. Peter hiccoughs as the shaking subsides, leaving him feeling exhausted and spent. He can feel Derek, still hard, pressed against him, and he tilts his hips back in invitation.

“It’s fine, I’ll deal with that later.” Derek mumbles into Peter’s shoulder. “Sleep now, Peter.”

As if it’s that easy, as if all Peter needed was a good fucking to exorcise the nightmares that sleep brings. His mind is racing, trying to connect the threads of what just happened with the events of the last year. By were’ law, his death was amends for his actions leading up to it, but were’ law doesn’t say anything about if the accused invades a girl’s mind and uses her to bring about his own resurrection. Of course, he’d been completely insane when he laid the groundwork for it. Anyone would be insane if they went straight from being in a six-year coma to being an alpha. Which had only happened because he’d killed his niece. Who had left him alone, packless, in a hospital full of humans with no idea that their treatments were next to useless on him. The thoughts circle and chase each other in his brain, cause and effect and he doesn’t understand but he feels like a weight he didn’t know he was carrying is no longer sitting on his chest.

And finally, amazingly, he does drift off to sleep, feeling safe for the first time in years, wrapped up in his alpha’s arms, trusting him to keep the demons at bay.

**Author's Note:**

> **Regarding the dub-con tag: Peter is 100% on board with the activities, but they are happening in the context of receiving discipline from his alpha, so when they first start out, some people may view the consent as the tag says, mildly dubious.**
> 
> I am always available to discuss Teen Wolf, Hale family feels, or Tyler Hoechlin in leather jackets, over at tumbls under the same user name.


End file.
